


Victory's Contagious

by 7iris



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7iris/pseuds/7iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Mmmm,” Tyler says in his ear. “Is this what we’re giving out for assists now?”</em>
</p>
<p>(Or: Jamie wins the Art Ross and his team shows him just how happy they are for him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victory's Contagious

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from tumblr.

When everything is finally over, when the media and the coaching staff is gone and it's just team, Jamie sits down heavily in his stall. 

"Art fucking Ross!" Tyler yells over the music. He's lost his jacket and tie, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He's grinning, huge and blinding. "You motherfucking beauty!"

Jamie tries to smile back. "I'd trade it for a playoff spot."

Tyler's grin softens. He sits down next to him, throws an arm around his shoulders. "I know, man. I would, too. But this is what you got."

Jamie leans into Tyler.

"You deserve it," Tyler says. "Sorry we couldn't get you the playoffs--"

"No--" Jamie says, his head snapping up.

"--But we are so fucking proud of you." Tyler gives him a shake, kisses the side of Jamie's head.

"Fuck yeah, we are," Jordie says. He comes over and cups Jamie's face in his hands, presses a big, smacking kiss to Jamie's forehead. Jamie scrunches his face up at him, and then Fidds is pushing Jordie away to kiss the top of Jamie's head.

Horcs is next, and then Klinger, quick and shy. Spezza kisses him right on the mouth, flashes him wicked grin. Jamie finds himself smiling back. The music is pounding, loud, bright pop, and everyone is laughing. He closes his eyes and goes with it, the soft, warm brush of chapped lips and stubble, strong hands gentle on his face, his neck, Tyler's arm still wrapped around his shoulders. His mouth is tingling and his shoulders are loose.

Someone slips him a little tongue and he laughs, startled, his eyes flying open. Demers grins at him.

Cody hipchecks Demers out of the way to kiss him next, and this time, Jamie reaches out, grips the back of his neck and kisses him back. 

"For the goal," Jamie says, a little breathless, when they break apart.

"Oh," Cody says. He's grinning and his cheeks are pink. He drops to his knees in front of Jamie. "For the assist," he says, reaching for the waistband of Jamie's shorts.

" _Ohhh,_ " Jamie says, his whole face going hot. Cody eases his cock out. He's half-hard already, and Cody's hands feel amazing, stroking him all the way there. He leans in, rubs the head of Jamie's cock against his lips, and Jamie squirms, trying not to push up into his mouth. 

"Mmmm," Tyler says in his ear. "Is this what we're giving out for assists now?"

Jamie sucks in a breath, a hard twist of _want_ in his gut. "Yeah," he says.

Tyler grins at him like he knows exactly what Jamie's thinking. "Yo, Eavsey!" he yells.

Jamie closes his eyes for a second, sinking into the sensation of Cody's mouth on his dick.

"Wow," Eaves says. 

"Cody's thanking him for the assist," Tyler says.

Jamie opens his eyes and licks his lips. "Thanks for the assist, Eaver."

Eaves laughs, delighted and disbelieving, and Jamie makes a come-here gesture at him. Eaves rests his knee on the bench on the other side of Jamie, close enough that Jamie can turn his head and rub his jaw against Eaves's cock through his sweats. 

Eaves breathes out and cups the back of Jamie's head. He's not hard yet, but that starts to change as soon as Jamie gets his hands on him.

Jamie slides his cock into his mouth, feeling him get thicker and harder against his tongue. Eaves groans. Jamie palms his ass and tugs him closer. 

"Fuck, Benny--"

Jamie sucks him harder.

"Klinger!" Tyler yells.

"Oh!" Klinger says, a minute later.

Jamie opens his eyes. He looks up at Klinger without taking his mouth off of Eaves's cock and Klinger's mouth falls open, a perfect shocked _o_. 

Jamie almost laughs, but then Cody swallows him all the way down, and the laughter dissolves into heat.

"Benny, I'm gonna--" Eaves pushes at his shoulder, but Jamie digs his fingers into his ass and holds him still. Eaves comes in his mouth with a ragged gasp. Jamie swallows, sloppy, spit and come all over his chin when Eaves pulls back. Eaves bends down to kiss him. "So fucking good, Benny."

Cody lifts his head, pulling off of Jamie's cock with a wet pop. "Lift up a sec," he says, and his voice is already hoarse.

Jamie shifts his weight enough for Cody to pull his shorts all the way off. He spreads his legs wider and Cody settles in again. 

"Hey, Klinger, you wanna?" Tyler asks.

"I, oh, yes, please," Klinger says, automatically polite, blushing like crazy. He trips a little trying to take Eaves's place, and Eaves catches him, holds him steady.

He's laughing, breathless and flushed, and Jamie smiles wider. "Thanks for the assist, Klinger."

"Oh," Klinger says, and then, " _Ohhhh,_ " when Jamie slides his cock into his mouth.

Cody rubs his finger over Jamie's asshole. A shock of anticipation runs down his spine. He inches his hips forward to give him more access. Cody pushes one spit-slick finger inside him, and Jamie makes a noise around Klinger's dick.

Klinger gasps. Jamie feels Tyler lean away from him for a moment, but he doesn't look over, too focused on the feeling of Cody's stroking him from the inside, Klinger's dick in his mouth, leaking slick salt across his tongue.

"We do this after every season?" Klinger asks weakly, petting Jamie's head.

"Only when the captain wins the Art Ross," Eaves says.

"So next year for sure," Tyler adds, leaning back in.

Jamie's going to argue, but Cody twists his hand just so and all that comes out is a thready moan. When Cody presses his fingers in again, they're wet with more than spit.

Jamie pulls back to drag in a heavy breath. He looks up at Klinger, who looks back, wide-eyed and dazed. Jamie's mouth feels stretched, swollen. He licks his lips.

Klinger makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat and comes all over Jamie's face. He groans something in Swedish, slumping back against Eaves. Jamie ducks his head, wipes most of the come away on the shoulder of his t-shirt.

"You gonna thank Eaks for his assist?" Tyler asks. 

Jamie flexes his hips, grinding down on Cody's fingers. "I'm gonna ride him for that assist."

Cody's cheeks get pinker, but he flashes Jamie a grin.

"Condom?" Tyler says, going to reach into his bag again.

Cody raises his eyebrows at Jamie and Jamie shakes his head. "I trust you guys."

Cody inhales sharply. "Fuck, okay."

Cody sits back on his heels, gets his cock out and slicks up. Jamie watches him. His dick is still wet with Cody's spit, and his whole body feels hot, tense with eagerness. 

"Shirt," Tyler says, and Jamie pulls it off, over his head. 

He drops the shirt and slides off the bench to straddle Cody's thighs. Cody steadies his hips as he sinks down. It's a stretch, in the best way, like something worth working for. Cody's biting his lip by the time Jamie stops moving, his eyes on Jamie's face.

"Thanks for the assist, Eaks," Jamie says. "And the goal."

Cody gives him a shaky laugh. "Anything for you, captain."

Jamie kisses him, an easy press of lips and tongues. Then he starts moving. He goes slow at first, testing out the feel of Cody's dick inside him, looking for the right rhythm, the right angle.

"God," Cody says faintly. His hands flex on Jamie's hips as Jamie picks up the pace. 

"Dales!" Tyler yells.

Cody's eyes flutter and his mouth drops open. The flush on his face spills down his throat, over his collarbones, his abs and thighs straining under Jamie's body.

Trevor drops to his knees next to Cody. He tugs on a lock of Cody's hair, runs his hand down Jamie's back. "Congratulations, Arty." 

Jamie half-shakes his head, and Trevor leans in to kiss him. Cody groans. He tips his head forward to drag his mouth over the exposed curve of Jamie's throat. His hips snap up, fast, short strokes that send little jolts of heat through Jamie's gut. Cody shudders and goes rigid, biting down on Jamie's throat hard enough to make him gasp against Trevor's mouth.

"Fuck," Cody breathes against his skin, all the tension leaving him in a rush.

"Trev--" Jamie says, hot, needy energy seething under his skin.

"Yeah, c'mon." Trevor's reaching for the lube.

Jamie kisses Cody's soft mouth and eases up off of him.

"Technically, Dales got the assist on Cody's goal, so," Tyler says.

"Shut up," Jamie says. 

"I'm just saying, we've got a system going here--"

Jamie flips him off and sinks down onto Trevor's cock. He ignores Tyler's laughter. His breath catches in his throat at the way Trevor's cock feels, how it fills him up differently than Cody did.

Trevor cups the back of his head, kisses him deep and fierce. "So fucking proud of you, kid. I always knew you'd be great. You're gonna show this league what's up."

Jamie's face goes hot and he ducks his head, pressing his face into the side of Trevor's throat. Trevor slides his hands under the backs of Jamie's thighs and rocks up into him, deep and easy, until Jamie is panting against his skin. 

Jamie fumbles for his dick, slides his hand down to grip the base tight. He's not ready to come yet, he wants to keep feeling all of this.

Trevor kisses his shoulder, sucks a bruise into his skin. His hands clench on Jamie's thighs and he lets out a low, bitten-off moan. Jamie swears he can feel Trevor's cock jerk inside him when Trevor comes.

"Is this a point-scorers-only party or can anyone join?" Spezza asks.

Jamie lifts his head and looks up at him. "Anyone," he says, and it comes out low and hoarse.

Spezza's smirk fades and his eyes go dark. Jamie likes that look on him. He pushes up off of Trevor's lap. He can feel Trevor and Cody's come sliding down his thighs, filthy in a way that makes his cock ache, makes heat spike in his gut. The muscles in his legs feel weak and shaky, and he lets himself sprawl out on his back, propped up on his elbows. His knee falls open wide and it sends a sharp flare of pain through his bad hip. He hisses in a breath.

Someone's hand is on his leg, broad and strong, straightening it so his heel is braced on the floor and his thigh is in line with his hip again. The pain subsides into a familiar dull ache, and Jamie exhales.

"Better?" Jordie asks, his thumb stroking absently over Jamie's skin. 

Jamie nods.

"You want me to go?" Jordie asks, softer.

Jamie shakes his head.

Spezza kneels between Jamie's thighs. He's lost his pants and his underwear. He glances at Jordie, then turns his attention to Jamie.

"Damn," he says, and it's rueful and impressed. He grips his cock and rubs the head of it against Jamie's asshole, not pushing in, just dragging over the slick, sensitive skin.

Jamie makes an impatient noise, bumps his knee into Spezza's hip. Spezza grins, but gives him what he wants, sliding into him easy as anything.

Jamie's cock jerks against his belly and he gasps.

"Yeah," Spezza groans. "Goddamn--"

His hips start moving, hard, ragged thrusts. His dick feels amazing inside Jamie, bright flashes of sensation shivering out to his fingertips.

"Gonna come on my cock?" Spezza asks, low and gravelly.

Jamie hooks his good leg around Spezza's back, pulling him deeper. "You first," he says.

Spezza laughs. Jamie clenches down around him deliberately, and his laughter cuts off. Jamie's bluffing, he's right on the edge himself, that unbearable, shining tension pulling all his muscles tight. But Spezza is the one who breaks first, his hips stuttering against Jamie's ass, and then going still.

They're both breathing hard. Jamie dredges up a grin. Spezza shakes his head and kisses his open, smiling mouth. He dips his head further and sucks a bruise into Jamie's skin, right next to the mark Trevor left.

He pulls out slowly, carefully. Jamie bites back the desperate, pleading noise he wants to make, he's so close and he feels so empty. Tyler pets his hand through Jamie's hair, a soothing gesture.

Demers takes Spezza's place between his legs, runs his hand up the back of Jamie's thighs . "Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jamie rasps. He swallows, steadies his voice. "C'mon, give it to me, daddy."

Tyler laughs and Demers rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't start with me, dude," he says. He kisses the laughter off of Jamie's mouth, fucks into him with deep, smooth strokes.

Jamie just gives in to it, to the feeling of Jason moving in him and over him, the feel of Jordie's hand on his thigh, holding him steady, the sound of his teammates laughing and celebrating around him. 

His orgasm rolls through him, a long, slow tidal wave that makes his toes curl and his back arch. Jason fucks him through it, dragging it out. Just before it's too much, Jason pulls out. He gives himself a few rough strokes and comes all over Jamie's stomach. He gives Jamie a goofy, blissed-out smile, and Jamie smiles back helplessly. 

"Congratulations," Jason says. "You deserve it."

Then he leans in and bites Jamie's collarbone. Jamie makes a vague noise of objection and Jason rolls off him, slapping his good hip as he goes. 

Jason's saying something to Tyler now. Jamie's whole body feels liquid and boneless, suffused with warmth, but he still, he still _wants_. 

"Jamie?" It's Val, looking down at him with a vaguely concerned expression. 

Jamie smiles up at him, and hooks his hand behind Val's knee, tugs hard. Val lets out a startled squawk and stumbles to his knees. Jamie transfers his grip to Val's shirt and pulls him down into a kiss. Val flails one hand out for balance, but he gets with the show immediately, kissing back dirty and enthusiastic.

Jamie pulls his mouth away. "C'mon, you wanna go?" he asks.

"Go?" Val says.

Jamie flexes his hips. "Fuck me."

Val flushes deep red. Jamie watches the dip of his lashes as his eyes sweep over Jamie's body. "Yes," he says.

"Good," Jamie says. 

Val shakes his head like he just came out of the pool, and then starts pulling his clothes off.

"Where is--?" Val says, and Tyler tosses him the bottle of lube. 

(Jamie thinks he won't even need it, he feels so sloppy wet and open, and the thought sends a shiver of heat through him.)

Val pushes in, and Jamie sighs. This is what he wants, not to come again, but just to feel filled up, to feel his his teammate's skin on his, to kiss him lazy and deep and sweet. 

Val kisses his mouth, his neck, leaves a hickey in the hollow of his throat. He says Jamie's name like he's in pain when he comes, and Tyler brushes his hair back and kisses his forehead.

Roussel talks the whole time in French, and Jamie only understands one word in ten, but he loves the tone of voice, warm and fierce and pleased.

Kari handles him like glass. "You were amazing this season," he says. "You were so good for us." He hesitates, losing his rhythm. "I'm sorry--"

"No, shut up," Jamie says, and cups his jaw, pulls him down and presses their mouths together. "Next year. Next year."

Kari lets out a long, shaky breath and nods.

Jamie come again, somewhere in there, something soft and warm and golden cracking open in his chest.

He hears Jordie groan, deep and heavy, next to him, and when he looks over, Tyler is blowing him. 

"Fuck," Jordie says, and falls back to lie next to Jamie. He leaves his knee bent, pressing against Jamie's, still bracing his bad leg in place.

After a minute, Jordie blinks his eyes open and looks at Jamie. They grin at each other. Jordie inches closer and presses a quick kiss to Jamie's shoulder. Then he sets his teeth against Jamie's skin and sucks hard enough to leave a mark, to match the bruises and bitemarks everyone else has left. Jamie lets him do it.

Tyler straddles Jamie's waist. "Hey," he says.

"Hey," Jamie says lazily. He's floating, his body filled with the deep satisfying ache of a hard-played game, of getting well and truly fucked. The bitter disappointment has faded, and he's only happy to be here, to feel this with these guys, to have all of next season ahead of them like a fresh start.

Tyler unzips his slacks and pulls his cock out. He's hard, the head of his cock flushed deep red. He strokes himself, slow, easy motions. "You look good like this," he says. He rubs his thumb over one of the hickeys on Jamie's chest. "Like you're ours."

Jamie hums. "I am."

Tyler shivers and his hand speeds up. Jamie reaches out to help, but he barely touches Tyler before Tyler gasps and curls in on himself, coming in warm, slick stripes across Jamie's chest. 

Tyler slumps forward, catching himself with one hand planted next to Jamie's head. 

"I'm sorry," Tyler says softly.

"For what?"

"For getting my stupid ass benched. For not being able to help you tonight."

"Good," Jamie says. He grips the back of Tyler's neck, presses their foreheads together. "You should be. I don't want to do this without you."


End file.
